The Shape of My Shadow: Chasing my independence.
The Shape of My Shadow (Part 2) – Elena stumbled toward the front door, her hands shaking so violently opened the lock.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a deafening roar that drowned out everything but the frantic image of Sandra, who had not answered her calls, and she had no idea about her daughter’s whereabouts.
As she threw the door open, Elena sprinted onto the streets where people gathered. A crowd was already forming at the intersection, their faces pale and illuminated by the flashing hazard lights of a halted car.
In her mind, she was already screaming Sandra’s name. Elena’s voice, small, almost a whisper, saying, “excuse me, let me pass through.” She wanted to check; she wanted to make sure.
Through a gap in the crowd, she saw a small figure of a young lady lying on the asphalt, with a brown backpack spilled open nearby. Elena’s breath caught in her throat. Sandra had a brown backpack.
But as she took another desperate step forward, she realized that the young girl had shorter hair than Sandra. She realized that it was not her daughter
Somehow, feeling relieved, Elena went back home. She tried to call Sandra again; it rang, but there was no answer from the other end.
Elena uttered a prayer, thanking and asking God to take care of her daughter, the only one who had been the source of her motivation to continue to strive harder in life.
By Sunday, Elena still hadn’t found any trace of Sandra. The knot of panic in her chest only loosened when she spotted her daughter at the market, walking toward a stall alongside Janice.
Elena let out a long, ragged sigh of relief. She instinctively moved forward to call her name, but froze. Looking down at her own frayed, faded clothes, she hesitated. She couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter looking at her with shame in front of a friend.
“I’m telling you, Janice, I honestly think I was switched at birth,” Sandra said, leaning back against the couch cushions and letting out a heavy sigh.
“My mother and I are from two completely different planets.”Janice laughed, setting her coffee mug down on the table. “Oh, come on, Sandra. It can’t be that bad. Everyone clashes with their mom sometimes.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Sandra insisted, throwing her hands up in the air. “It is everything. First of all, she is so unbelievably strict, especially when it comes to my grades.”
“Sometimes, I wonder if she’s really my true mother,” Sandra added. Janice scolds her, “Don’t say that.”
“Janice, can I tell you something that’s been weighing on me?” Sandra asked, her voice dropping to a whisper as she stared into her coffee mug. Janice set her cup down, sensing the shift in energy.
“Of course. You know you can tell me anything. What’s wrong?”
Sandra swallowed hard, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I was looking at old photos the other night. Side-by-side pictures of my mom at my age, and then me. Janice… we look nothing alike. Not the eyes, not the smile, nothing. It hit me so hard, and honestly, it terrified me.”
“Oh, Sandra,” Janice said softly, reaching across the table to squeeze her friend’s hand. “Different doesn’t mean you aren’t hers. Genetics can be so random sometimes. Maybe you inherited your looks from your father.”
“I don’t even know who my father is. My mother never talks about him,” Sandra whispered.
Janice consoled her friend by saying, “Maybe there is a reason. You may not know it right now, but I believe, someday, your questions will be answered.
School required Sandra to wear her uniform, forcing her to return the next morning. She slipped inside, bracing herself for another confrontation. Creeping through the house on that rainy Monday, she kept her footsteps light to avoid waking her mother.
But Sandra’s presence was immediately felt by her mother.
Sitting at the small wooden table, Elena stood when she saw Sandra. In front of her wasn’t a plate of food, but a glass of water and a piece of stale bread. On the counter sat a neatly packed, colorful lunch box containing fried chicken and fresh fruit, Sandra’s favorite.
“Sandra, get moving or you’re going to be late,” Elena said, her voice cutting through the morning quiet as she set a travel mug down on the counter. “And make sure you actually focus in algebra today. You need to keep those grades up if you want options after graduation. Study hard, Sandra. No excuses.”
Sandra groaned inwardly. She hated this routine. Every single morning felt like a rehearsed lecture, a heavy weight of expectations dropped onto her shoulders. She just nodded and went straight to her room, saying to herself, “She did not even ask where I went, or how I am.”
Sandra sighed so deeply to keep her tears from falling.
Sandra stood by the front door, slipping her keys into her bag. “Mom, I’m heading out now!” she called out toward the kitchen.
Her mother walked into the hallway to wave goodbye, but stopped mid-stride. Her face suddenly lost all color. “Sandra, don’t forget to study…” her mother muttered, her voice trailing off.
Before Sandra could ask what was wrong, her mother’s eyes rolled back. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed heavily onto the living room rug. _
The Shape of My Shadow Part 3 drops next Monday. Don’t miss it!
READ Part 1 here.
READ Part 3 here.